


we dream of a brand new start

by Slumber



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Childhood Friends, City Boy and Country Farmhand, Hallmark Movie Special, M/M, You know this song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-25
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26096794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/pseuds/Slumber
Summary: In which city boy Kuroo Tetsurou flees to the country. In which farmhand Ushijima Wakatoshi is around to lend a hand.
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 100
Kudos: 123





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [peculiairyties (ItsAiryBro)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsAiryBro/gifts).



> Airy, no one loves Ushijima like you do. This is for you.
> 
> Like a Hallmark movie but make it UshiKuroo. I make no promises on updates (or factual accuracy about country living -- it's the Hallmark aesthetic, I'm so sorry) but I do have an outline and peer pressure and this first chapter came out of me in about an hour so let's see how far I can ride this wave of inspiration. Thank you Twitter user [cry__ola](https://twitter.com/cry__ola/status/1297796100947050496).

It's early when Kuroo wakes up— or at least he thinks it is— sunlight streaming cool and light between the curtains, the summer breeze wafting in gentle, a different chorus of morning bustle coming in from the outside, but there's already breakfast at the table, his grandmother bustling about with what's probably her third cup of tea.

"You let me sleep in again," he says, guilty. "I said I'd be happy to make you breakfast."

"Tetsu-kun," she greets, smile wide and pleased. "You know I wake up well before the sun does, and you were sleeping so well. You were, weren't you? I didn't want to disturb you. Come, come, there's breakfast ready and I'll make you a fresh cup of tea."

"Baachan," he groans, laying hands on her shoulders and guiding her to sit. His mom had said she'd probably need the help, but in the week since he'd arrived all she'd done was dote on him, like he was five and visiting for the summer again. "You sit down, and let me take care of myself, at least, okay?"

"Alright, alright," she says with a smile. "My Tetsu-kun's not been here for this long, I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't want to leave so soon again."

Kuroo laughs weakly, navigating the kitchen to find the utensils he needed. "You may get your wish, Baachan," he murmurs, picking out a delicate cup with a scalloped rim and gold lining for his coffee. "I'm gonna clear out the branches from last night's storm today, okay? Then I'll continue on the barn." 

"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Baachan says, beaming over her cup. "'Toshi-kun came by a few minutes ago, said he was gonna help clear everyone's out and I was first on his list."

"Toshi-kun?" Kuroo echoes, frowning. He pours himself a cup of instant coffee and takes the seat opposite Baachan.

"Takashi's boy— oh! He's probably still there, actually, be a dear and check for me will you? He said he didn't need anything earlier but you should take him a glass of water, there were a lot of fallen branches and he's bound to need it."

"Oh, yeah, it's— I can do that," Kuroo says, eager to be some semblance of useful. "Bring him a whole pitcher while we're at it, the poor kid probably needs it. I'll be right back, Baachan."

"Don't mind me, Tanji-kun's picking me up in a bit and we'll be heading to the community center until lunch."

Kuroo raises an eyebrow, but if his grandmother notices she doesn't mention it. After confirming where she planned to eat lunch— at the center, she said, so he was on his own with ramen today, it looked like— he takes one more sip of his coffee and heads over to grab a pitcher of water and a glass for Toshi-kun.

* * *

When Baachan said Takashi's boy, Toshi-kun, was helping out, Kuroo figured she meant like… a local kid. Middle school, maybe high school, off on summer break so his parents sent him around all the senior citizens' homes for a couple of odd errands, because it was the neighborly thing to do, the kind of thing you did in the country. 

There is no scrawny fourteen-year-old tending to Baachan's yard. Instead there's a—

In one hand, Kuroo holds a glass of water.

But before him stands _a tall glass of water._

Tanned, toned forearms, flexing with every heave of fallen branch into the wheelbarrow next to him. Sweat-sheened skin, defined biceps in full view. Shirt sleeves rolled all the way up to broad shoulders and back that tapered down to a slim waist. Rugged, dirtied denims that clung sinfully to a full backside, thick thighs and solid calves.

"Toshi-kun?" he squeaks, clearing his throat and trying again, with his adult voice this time. He hopes the heat on his cheeks can be chalked up to the summer. "Toshi-kun?" 

Toshi-kun wipes the sweat from his brow (Kuroo bites down the urge to lick it off for him) and turns to face him. He's even more gorgeous than in profile, the cut of his jaw sharp and angular, sunlight catching in his olive eyes as he blinks, a flash of something softening his gaze. "Tetsurou— Kuroo Tetsurou?"

Kuroo blinks. Did he know this guy? He tries to cast his mind back to the week since he arrived, but all Baachan had introduced him to were her community center friends, the old neighbors, certainly no one like the minor country deity that stood before him then. "Yeah? Toshi-kun?" He holds up the water. "Baachan said you might want a drink."

Baachan did _not_ warn Kuroo _he_ might want a drink.

"Ah, I am not thirsty, but thank you. That is kind of her." He takes the glass gratefully from Kuroo and takes a long sip of it. Kuroo tries very hard not to watch the line of his throat as he tips his head back, the way his Adam's apple bobs with each gulp or the path a stray bead of sweat makes down to the hollow of his throat. 

"Least we could do," Kuroo mumbles. "Thanks for, uh, helping out. I would've, but she let me sleep in."

"It is no trouble," Toshi-kun says, handing Kuroo the now-empty glass. "You said my name like you were asking a question, earlier."

"Um." Kuroo flashes him a grin. If he had a free hand he'd be scratching the back of his neck. "Caught me. You said my name like you recognized me. Should I—?"

Toshi-kun glances at Baachan's house. "There was a boy who came over to visit her before, a long time ago. Just a few times. I assumed that was you. My mistake." 

"Oh, that _was_ me—" Kuroo frowns, the hazy memories of his childhood summers surfacing in flashes. He remembered bringing his Gameboy along, and sitting out in Baachan's deck in a sleeveless shirt and shorts, sweating the heat out while he tried to beat the level without Kenma's help. The battery running low, his grandmother promising she'd pick some up the next time she went into town. Kuroo amusing himself with the barn, then with the tree, then poking his head down the road into the house next door. Finding a skinny boy with serious olive eyes gently taking a stag beetle off the bark of a tree. " _Waka-chan_?"

Waka-chan is as serious as ever, but his lips curl into what must be his version of a smile. At least it reaches his eyes. "Tettsun," he says warmly. "Welcome back."

Kuroo laughs. "Holy shit," he says. "You used to be skinnier than me! I didn't recognize you, you've—" Grown. Gotten hot. Glowed the _fuck_ up. "I didn't even know your full name."

"It's Ushijima Wakatoshi." 

" _Ushijima_ , that's right, that's— you're—" Kuroo slaps a heel to his forehead. "Baachan talks about everyone here and I have no idea who she means, she's been calling you Toshi-kun and Takashi's boy. I'm sorry, that was so rude of me."

"It is alright. It has been many years."

"It _has_ , yeah," Kuroo laughs, and something about finding another thing that was familiar to him in this place, something outside of his Baachan's smile and her hugs and her doting, just felt really good at that moment. "So— hey, let me help you, okay? I did come out here to help out too, but you gotta tell me what you've been up to. It's been so long. Still collecting stag beetles?"

"Only when the kids ask for help," Ushijima says mildly. "I am almost done, but if you insist, there are a few more branches over there. I have been working at my mother's farm. What about you? Are you on vacation?"

"Something like that," Kuroo says, heading over to where Ushijima directed him and looking down at the pile of branches there. They'd been laying in the mud overnight and looked particularly dirty. Kuroo thinks he sees something hairy crawl into the underside of one of the branches. He shudders.

"Is everything alright?" Ushijima asks, voice right next to his ear, and Kuroo nearly jumps. 

"Yeah! No, I mean— it's fine!" he says, rolling up his sleeves and saying a silent goodbye to his shirt before he gathers the pile of branches up in his arms. It is a significantly smaller pile than the ones Ushijima is able to carry in his arms, but Kuroo is Kuroo and Ushijima is _like that_. "Thought I'd come up here to help Baachan clear out her barn."

"The barn is quite huge."

"That's why she needs help, yeah," Kuroo says. Sure he's not exactly the strong, strapping young lad for the task, but it was as good a reason as any. "I got time, it's fine."

"I am often done with my work in the afternoons," Ushijima tells him. "If you like, I can lend you a hand—"

"No, I can't possibly—"

"It is a very big barn."

Kuroo winces. It is. He's seen it. He's been trying to make a dent in it in the last couple of days, and he's barely managed to get through the first foot of it. "I really can't—well. If you're insisting. It'd be nice to at least hang out around other people my age too, I think. Could use the company. And only if you let us have you over for dinner after." The neighbors here didn't like doing anything for money— that was not why they helped out, but _dinner_. No one could refuse an invitation to dinner.

"I suppose dinner is fine," Ushijima says solemnly. 

"Alright, then," Kuroo says, grinning. "When do we start?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Kuroo forces his eyes to travel upward, to his sharp, handsome features, the way his beautiful mouth wraps around words like, "I am at your disposal."

Baachan's already up by the time Kuroo's alarm rings, even though he'd set it for the earliest possible time he'd dare— 6 a.m. He hides a yawn behind his hand as he blinks, blearily, at his grandmother humming to herself, the rice just about done and the pot of miso soup simmering quietly next to her. 

"What _hour_ do you get up?" he wants to know. And where does she get the energy. The day before, she'd gotten back home at some point in the middle of the afternoon for a nap, only to get up and wave off the dinner Kuroo'd started painstakingly preparing for them, saying something about a neighborhood meeting for the festival committee, or something with that combination of words. He has absolutely no idea what time she got back, but he knows it was _after_ he'd conked out on his bed at an embarrassingly early 9:30 p.m.

_Fine._ 9:16 p.m. But rounded up it was almost the same.

"Oh, when you get to my age, Tetsu-kun, you barely need sleep," she tuts, putting the water on to boil. "Coffee?"

"I got it, Baachan," Kuroo hums, rubbing the last of sleep from his eyes. "Community center again today?"

"Mm, the karuta society's holding a tournament," she says. "I'll probably be all day; Micchan said she'd take care of food. Do you want to come along?" 

Kuroo can't imagine that being all too riveting, and though he wouldn't say no to accompanying his grandmother around, he'd learned early on that she didn't really want for company. The last time he visited the community center she'd almost forgotten he was with her, and he'd had to flag down Tanji-san's car to remind them both he needed a ride back. "I gotta work on the barn today, so you go on ahead and have fun without me."

"Tetsu-kun, the barn doesn't really—"

"S'okay, Baachan," Kuroo says, putting on his nicest smile for her. "I'll be fine." 

* * *

Later, when Tanji-san has driven over in his old Toyota and picked Baachan up, Kuroo ventures into his suitcase, where half his clothes still lived, to pick up his grubbiest shirt.

Then, remembering that Ushijima was coming over to help later, he looks for something more dark and tight-fitting and snug around him.

The sun's high in the sky when Kuroo ventures out, carrying with him nothing more than an old wagon from Baachan's storeroom and the thinnest thread of a plan. 

What Baachan had been trying to say was that the barn didn't really need any kind of cleaning out. At least, not urgently so. It hadn't been used since they sold the farmland to the Ushijimas many years ago, when his grandfather got too old to work the land and it became clear that Kuroo's father, safely ensconced in a fancy corporate job in Tokyo, wouldn't be taking over. The Ushijimas had no need for a second barn, so over the years, according to Kuroo's mom anyway, the barn ended up accumulating various bric-a-brac, turning into a temporary storage space for anything that no longer fit the house, but which Baachan couldn't bear to part with.

And even then, it had been years. Baachan barely remembers what's in the barn now, and after Kuroo came home with various rusted tools on his first couple of days, she gave him carte blanche to clean it out as he saw fit.

The current plan is to throw everything away. It sounds simple in theory, but there are some items Kuroo has realized can be sorted into scrap that can be sold away, trash that should be recycled, and the actual rubbish. 

And the barn itself was— well. It was full of some items that may or may not be sharp, rusty, and posed high risk of giving him tetanus if they stabbed him by accident, balanced quite precariously on top of other items of similar danger. 

It was a massive safety hazard, so Kuroo had to go through it with a great amount of care. _That's_ what's taking so long.

Not that Kuroo minds one bit.

He likes the methodical, laborious work of it, the way that it takes up all his attention and leaves him with room for little else. He sets to work with the loose items within his reach first, trying to figure out what they were, then where they should go. Some items he isn't too sure about end up in a fourth pile for later evaluation, but he makes a slow and careful dent through the barn like this, losing hours in the mindless tedium of it. He takes a break only when his stomach growls for lunch, the meal quick and easy, before he returns, the piles outside the barn growing larger by the hour.

Ushijima comes by in the afternoon like he promised he would, knocking on the side of the barn to catch Kuroo's attention as he ponders a chipped, curved blade with a broken handle.

"Is this a good time?" he asks, peering at Kuroo's piles curiously. "It looks like you have made a lot of progress already."

"Wait 'til you see the inside of the barn," Kuroo mutters with a laugh, waving Ushijima over. "Yeah, I'm not quite done yet, if you weren't too tired from work."

"I am fine," Ushijima says, moving closer. He's wearing a plaid button-down today, sleeves rolled up to the biceps, the material thin for how well it hugs his torso. Kuroo forces his eyes to travel upward, to his sharp, handsome features, the way his beautiful mouth wraps around words like, "I am at your disposal."

"Right," he breathes out, blinking sharply to look around him. "Well, I've sort of devised a little system here, I guess," he says, explaining the ins and outs of the piles, and where they go, and how Ushijima should be careful with the barn itself.

"I see what you mean," he says, peering into what remains inside. He frowns, pointing at something. "That will be difficult to remove on its own, it is not very stable. We should move it now while there's two of us."

It looks pretty stable from where Kuroo is standing, whatever _it_ is— it's actually kind of hard to see in the shadows of everything else looming around them, but he's hardly an expert in any of this. "Alright, you take the lead."

Following Ushijima's short but clear instructions, Kuroo maneuvers himself to position, holding up his hand to steady the items Ushijima had thought would loosen up, and keeping them in place while Ushijima dislodged the specific item.

"Got it?" Kuroo asks, looking over.

"Almost," Ushijima grunts, and it's dim but Kuroo has a special kind of vision to appreciate the flex in his arms all the same. (He'd have said he was strictly a thigh man but there is something about the way the muscle cords in Ushijima's forearms that Kuroo highly, highly appreciates.) Ushijima takes a deep breath, readjusting his approach before he carefully slides the item— an ornate wooden box— out of the upper shelf it's been on.

As he predicted, a few things begin shifting as this happens. It's clear now why he'd pinned it down as a two-person job, and Kuroo carefully takes care of the rest, nudging them loose from the stack and pulling them out of the barn too.

"What did we unearth over here?" he murmurs, the box looking vaguely familiar but bringing in no clearer memories. "How do you even open this thing?"

Ushijima reaches over, his arm brushing against Kuroo's as he does so. "There is a lock hidden under the ridge here—" he says, feeling around until he finds what he's looking for. 

"Oh, so there is," Kuroo says, careful as he tilts the box at an angle and finding a keyhole there. "Maybe we'll find the key somewhere here," he adds, hoping he hadn't mistakenly thrown it away already. He sets the box in the to-be-reviewed-later pile. "I'll ask Baachan if she remembers." 

Ushijima doesn't answer, and something about his silence makes Kuroo take a look. His face is— it's not _impassive_ , even though he's neither frowning nor smiling. But the set of his brows has eased, and there is something soft in his gaze as it lingers on the box for a moment before he's sweeping through the rest of the barn, before Kuroo can ask what it is. "This side looks like it will be easier to go through for you tomorrow morning," he decides, nodding to himself before he peers into another section. "Here will be trickier."

"Not shying away from the hard labor, eh?" Kuroo says with a grin. This morning when he'd told Baachan that Ushijima was coming over to help, she'd only nodded like of _course_ Toshi-kun would, he's such a helpful boy, a blessing to the neighborhood, he's the hardest worker she'd ever seen, the Ushijimas are so lucky to have someone like him taking over the farm some day. Make sure you thank him nice and proper, Tetsu-kun, sorry she can't say hi for dinner, but maybe the next day she'll make them both something. "I appreciate it, really. Thank you."

"It is what I said I would do," Ushijima says, spotting something in the barn and taking it out carefully.

"What is it?" Kuroo asks, curious, looking over his shoulder— he's a pretty tall guy, but Ushijima's somehow even taller, so he only just barely manages to, between the height and the _shoulder width_ and— "A saddle?"

It's a child's saddle, but it looks much smaller in Ushijima's hands. He brushes it free of the accumulated dust, but all that does is leave streaks where his fingers had been. "Your grandfather used to own horses."

"Yeah. I remember." Kuroo smiles. "You guys bought them, right?"

Ushijima nods. "Do you still remember how to ride?"

"Barely," Kuroo says ruefully. He had loved riding horses, when he could. The chance came up very rarely, if at all, in Tokyo. 

"It is not something your body forgets," Ushijima says. "You should come over sometime. There is a nice trail nearby. I can take you, if you like."

Kuroo laughs shakily. "Only if you promise to hold the reins because I don't think I can ride on my own—" he starts to say, teasing, when his phone rings, blaring the opening notes to Miku Hatsune's _[Blow Up and Die, Happy People](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aqXhUtwO_ZY)_. "Uh. Hang on a second, I gotta take this."

Ushijima nods, the smallest little crease in his forehead at the sudden shrill, poppy tune coming from Kuroo's phone. 

"Hey," Kuroo says, answering the call as he steps outside.

Kenma's voice on the other end of the line is flat and staticky. "So you're still alive."

"You've caught me at a moment where there's _actually_ a strong enough signal for a call, and that's the greeting I get?" he asks, knowing Kenma may not see his pout, but channeling it in his tone anyway. 

"It's more than you deserve."

"Ouch." 

"You sound better today."

Inside the barn, Ushijima's moving through the loose items on one of the shelves, giving Kuroo his privacy, but Kuroo lowers his voice anyway, and moves further out of earshot. "View's gotten way better," he murmurs, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Oh my god, it's been less than a week," Kenma groans from the other end of the line.

"That's not what I—"

"So you _are_ better."

Kuroo pauses, hearing the question in the statement. The concern too, if he really, really tries. "Getting there," he says finally, letting out a deep breath. "Once you get past the—"

" _Countryside_ ," Kenma prompts, drawing out a laugh from Kuroo. "You called me the first night crying and begging me to come pick you up again. From one mosquito bite."

"I've figured out how to spray them away since," Kuroo says proudly. "It's— it's fine. Baachan's good. I'm— this has been good, you know? Probably just what I needed."

"Hmm." Kenma waits a beat, but when Kuroo volunteers nothing more, he asks, "How much longer?"

"I don't know," he admits. "I haven't figured that out yet."

* * *

"Sorry about that, I hope I didn't leave you alone too long," Kuroo says when he returns to the barn, finding Ushijima neatly arranging various tools in nice little groups.

"It was no problem."

Ushijima doesn't ask what the call was about, or who the caller was, which is extremely polite and respectful of him. Kuroo doesn't tell him, which is kind of a dick move.

"Hey," he says instead. "Baachan's out all day today, but she did promise us dinner tomorrow."

"That is fine. I am not helping for dinner."

Kuroo laughs. "Yes, I know. You're helping because you're a good person. She's excited to have you over, it's just— wow, I had no idea how _busy_ her social calendar was. Puts me a little bit to shame, you know? I didn't go out nearly half as much as she does when I lived in Tokyo. _Tokyo!_ " 

"There is no shortage of things to do around here," Ushijima says. "And your grandmother is well-regarded. With good reason."

"Yeah," Kuroo says, grinning. "Well. All that to say, I've been eating nothing but home cooking the past week, so how about for dinner tonight, we go out somewhere good? My treat! I'm not backing away from dinners just because Baachan can't make it."

"Ah, I see," Ushijima says, and Kuroo thinks he's as close as he's gotten to smiling. "Yes, that would be nice. Is there a particular dish you'd like to have tonight?"

_You,_ Kuroo doesn't say, swallowing the immediate urge and flashing Ushijima a wide smile instead instead. "I'm up for anything! What do _you_ want?"

"One of my old friends' family runs a restaurant in town. It is not very far and I can drive us there."

"Great, it's a d— plan! We have a plan!" Kuroo says, still beaming. "Now, uh, where are those other two-person jobs we gotta take care of?"

* * *

The family restaurant is in the middle of what can be considered the town's main shopping district. District is a generous word to use, it's half a street with the shops everyone needs, plus a couple for strolling along.

Ushijima opens the door to let Kuroo go in first, but as soon as he follows behind Kuroo he's greeted by at least three of the diners and half the staff, not with the generic _Welcome!_ that follows the same pitch and cadence no matter where you go in Tokyo, but a genuine warmth from knowing who just walked in the door.

"Didn't know you'd come over tonight, Wakatoshi-kun!" a lanky red-headed man greets him. "Who's this? Wait, no, don't tell me, could it be? The infamous Te—"

"This is Kuroo Tetsurou," Ushijima says, sounding oddly abrupt. "Kuroo, this is my best friend Tendou Satori."

Kuroo smiles, not sure how he feels about the open interest in Tendou's gaze, nor of the way Ushijima's name slides so easily, so familiarly, off his tongue. "Nice to meet you," he says, because he's still got his manners anyway. "This place came highly recommended."

"We'll try not to disappoint," Tendou tells him, ushering them both to an open booth. "You want your usual, Wakatoshi?" 

"Yes, please."

"And for our guest?"

"Um," Kuroo picks up the menu, looking over the offerings while Tendou waited. "Actually, how about you surprise me?"

"Hmm, are you sure about that?" Tendou asks, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

"Their grilled mackerel is very good here," Ushijima offers.

Kuroo blinks. "I love grilled mackerel," he says. "Yeah, I'll have that, please."

"As expected from Wakatoshi," Tendou says, writing their orders down. "One usual and one grilled mackerel, coming right up!"

Kuroo opens his mouth to say something, but one of the diners comes up to them— like Tendou, he obviously knows Ushijima already, and was curious about Kuroo, lighting up when he recognizes him as his Baachan's grandson. Then another of the restaurant workers comes by with their drinks, and another of the diners comes to talk about some business he had with the Ushijima farm. Kuroo has to bite down his lip to keep from smiling when Tendou brings over their orders, waiting until the moment before Ushijima takes a bite out of his meal to ask him how the food was.

"I am sure it is as good as it always is," he replies, finally taking the bite. 

"Mackerel's very good, Tendou-san!" Kuroo chimes in, giving him the thumbs up before he can ask.

"I am sorry about that," Ushijima says later, once they've had their fill and then some, Tendou coming by to convince them both to have a slice each of his chocolate cake— off the menu until his father caves in and lets him add it, but they should try it and tell him what he thinks, he'd said— as he drives Kuroo back.

"Sorry about what?" Kuroo asks, glancing over at Ushijima. 

He's frowning, as though trying to determine how to explain it. "Everyone is curious about you," Ushijima says instead. "You did not seem bothered by the interruptions, but I hadn't thought there would be so—"

"Many of them?"

Ushijima nods. "I usually dine there on my own, so Tendou keeps me company when he can. And I don't mind when the neighbors come by to talk, too."

"It's a small town," Kuroo says, shrugging. "That was kind of nice, I guess. Feels like you're never quite alone."

"That is true," Ushijima says. He grows quiet again, of the variant that makes Kuroo think he's deep in thought, and neither of them say anything the rest of the drive. 

"I had fun, either way," Kuroo says when they roll up to his grandmother's house. "That _was_ a good place. Thank you for taking me there, and thank you for bringing me back. See you same time tomorrow?"

"I'm glad to hear it; you're welcome. I will be here at the same time tomorrow," Ushijima confirms. Kuroo's already hopped out of the car and is halfway up the path when he calls out, "Kuroo."

He pauses mid-stride, half-turning back to catch his gaze. "Yeah?"

"I think I minded it, this time, when everyone came over to talk."

"Oh," Kuroo breathes. "Well." He grins. "Next time, we'll just have to go someplace no one will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ~~Tomorrow, probably, but I'll try not to jinx myself~~ Up next: horses!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > "Her temperament is best suited for beginners," Ushijima says. "You will be in good hands with her."
>> 
>> "And you," Kuroo says. Ushijima had promised he'd guide Kuroo until he felt more comfortable riding on his own, saying it so earnestly Kuroo's embarrassment at making him swear to it abated a little.
>> 
>> The corner of Ushijima's lips pulls up the smallest, smallest bit. "And me."

It takes a little bit longer for next time to arrive. Clearing out the barn keeps them busy over the following days— Kuroo didn't think it was possible, but he can actually see the floor for about half of it, now— and Baachan actually starts making a point of being home early enough in time for dinner. (Which, Kuroo isn't anyone to want to impose anything like a _curfew_ for his grandmother, but he knows the community center closes at 6, you know. He's checked.)

And Baachan _loves_ having Ushijima over for dinner. She's always been the doting kind, and has always been very fond of Kuroo, so it isn't that he feels slighted or anything, but apparently he's helped out a _lot_ over the past couple of years, especially once Jiichan passed away, and rarely accepted anything in return. 

"You boys have been working so hard, don't think I haven't seen," she tells them one evening, beckoning them to get seconds lest she pile their plates high with more rice and more stew for them. "Why, that barn's looking better and better by the day!"

"Don't think I'd have gotten nearly as far with it if Ushijima hadn't been helping," Kuroo says, throwing him a grin. 

Ushijima shakes his head. "I am only able to help when I can. You're the one who has been spending all your time on it." 

"It's just usually the grunt work. You do a lot with moving things along when you come over." Kuroo frowns, remembering something. "By the way, that person you said could buy the scrap metals—" 

"Sagae-kun will come by tomorrow to make an offer," Ushijima tells him. "He will give you a fair price." 

"Oh, give him a discount," Baachan urges. "We're just happy he can take them off our hands."

"You heard her," Kuroo says, grinning.

"You two," Baachan says with a shake of her head. "Enough shop talk. Tetsu-kun, you've barely had any rest since you got here. I thought you left the city to de-stress?"

"I'm not stressed!" Kuroo protests. "I'm very _not_ stressed."

"You can't work on the barn on the weekends, either way," she decides. "I'm going to lock it up, just you see. Find something else to do meanwhile. Toshi-kun, you're free on Saturdays aren't you? Can't you two boys kick back for a day and enjoy the springtime of your youth?"

"I'm nearly thirty," Kuroo mutters under his breath. "That's hardly—"

"When you're pushing eighty like me, Tetsu-kun, thirty is going to seem positively _young_ ," Baachan says, chuckling. 

"I am free on Saturdays," Ushijima says. "If Kuroo would like to accompany me, I can show him around."

Baachan beams. "Thank you, Toshi-kun," she says, patting his hand. "What would we do without you?"

* * *

"You were _conspiring_ with Baachan," Kuroo decides when Saturday arrived and Ushijima came over to pick him up, only to walk them over next door.

Where the Ushijima's horses were.

"You were there as well," Ushijima points out. "She wished for you to take a break, and she's right. It's not good to work every day of the week."

"Yeah, but—"

Ushijima frowns, thoughtful. "Do you not like to ride anymore?"

"I— I probably still do," Kuroo says. "It's just _really_ been a while. I'm almost definitely going to embarrass myself."

"Ah, so it is a matter of uncertainty," Ushijima says. "If you could, though, you would like to?"

Kuroo doesn't hesitate. "Yes."

"Then, I can help," he offers, and that's how Kuroo finds himself meeting all of the Ushijimas' beautiful horses, neighing softly as they ate carrot bits out of Kuroo's palm. 

"Don't think I can't tell. You're making me bribe them," Kuroo murmurs, stroking a spotted gray horse's mane. "Hello there. That's right, more carrots if you keep playing nice."

"There is no need. They know they can trust you," Ushijima says, saying hello to a dark brown mare with a starburst of white on her forehead. "Hime is the nicest one of them, though." 

"Do I get Hime?" Kuroo asks, watching as Ushijima unlatches the gate in her stall, leading her out carefully. He's firm and gentle with her, and she's clearly at ease with him, barely paying attention as he fits the saddle pad, the stirrups, the saddle over her back. It's careful, detailed work, and Ushijima is attentive as he does it, adjusting the straps as needed with practiced, deft hands. 

"Her temperament is best suited for beginners," Ushijima says. "You will be in good hands with her."

"And you," Kuroo says. Ushijima had promised he'd guide Kuroo until he felt more comfortable riding on his own, saying it so earnestly Kuroo's embarrassment at making him swear to it abated a little.

The corner of Ushijima's lips pulls up the smallest, smallest bit. "And me." He hands the reins over to Kuroo next, with a simple, "So she can get to know you," before he gets one of the other horses saddled up and ready to go as well.

"We're gonna be best buds, Hime-chan," Kuroo says, putting on his best smile for Hime, who simply noses at his wrist like she's looking for another treat. "Ah, well—"

"Here," Ushijima says, coming up from behind him and placing another carrot bit in his hand.

"And Ushijima provides," Kuroo says, feeding Hime her treat. "Good girl." Turning to Ushijima, he asks, "Are we ready?"

"Anytime you are," is Ushijima's answer. He's secured his own horse for the moment, and after a moment's silence it occurs to Kuroo that he might be waiting for something.

"Uh."

"Can you mount?" 

Kuroo glances over at Hime nervously. He's tall, but suddenly she seems much, much taller. "Well. Jiichan always used to just— plop me right over, so actually, um."

"Don't worry, it's easy," Ushijima says, taking hold of Hime's reins and stepping closer to help Kuroo, close enough that Kuroo's cheeks feel suddenly quite warm. But Ushijima doesn't mention anything, his palm hovering by the small of Kuroo's back as he shows him what to do. "You can put your foot there— hold here— don't worry about putting your weight on it to pull yourself up, she's a strong girl—" 

Kuroo used to be a strong boy, too. Back when he was in school, he used to play competitive sports, even. But then he entered the workforce and found a desk job and could only jog once a week, if he was feeling like getting up early on Saturdays. He isn't sure he has the upper body strength anymore to just pull himself up as easy as Ushijima makes it sound. "Okay," is what he says, though, hooking his foot into one of the stirrups and closing his eyes to pray for the best before he heaves himself up with a _pretty fucking embarrassing grunt_ on the way.

And sure enough, yep, not even at the intended apex, he feels the momentum begin to wane, gravity telling him _not today, weakling_ and pulling him back down.

"Oh no—" he starts, but there is a warmth on the back of his waist, strong and steady and solid, pushing him back the rest of the way. 

"See? It is easy," Ushijima says, and Kuroo likes to think he isn't just imagining it, the way Ushijima's palm slides around his waist and maybe lingers a moment too long there before he's pulling away.

"Easy peasy," Kuroo echoes, throat dry. 

"How do you feel?" Ushijima asks, handing him the reins, and Kuroo blinks like an idiot for two seconds before realizing Ushijima's asking about riding Hime.

And now that he's suddenly very aware of how _very high_ atop a live animal he is, Kuroo's muscles unintentionally stiffen, his grip on Hime's reins tightening. Hime takes that as a cue to move forward, the movement too sudden for Kuroo's liking, drawing an unattractive yelp out of him. "Um!" 

"Easy," Ushijima tells him, his hand back on Kuroo's waist, the other moving over to touch Kuroo's wrist, calloused fingertips hot against his skin. "You can loosen your hold, it will be okay. You're too stiff like that. You should relax and let your body roll with Hime's gait."

"Right. Okay."

"I will walk with you," Ushijima decides, taking his own horse by her reins and walking next to Hime and Kuroo, leading them all past the stables to a trail just beyond the fences that marked the farm boundaries. "Until you are comfortable."

"What if I don't get comfortable?" Kuroo asks, though with Ushijima next to him, he's already breathing a little easier than earlier. 

"Then we will not be able to go very far in the trail, but it will still be a morning well spent."

Kuroo laughs quietly, his cheeks incredibly warm and his stance a lot more relaxed than just moments ago. "I can see why the whole town adores you," he murmurs under his breath. 

"What was that?"

"I'll do my best to make it worth your while, then," Kuroo says. 

It's a gentle trail, easy on the horses, with softened ground and uncomplicated terrain, the path slowly winding through what Kuroo imagines must be acres and acres of field and forest. Kuroo has no idea how far they've traveled but it doesn't take very long before he realizes he's found his stride, and that Ushijima's hold on Hime's reins has turned into a matter of courtesy in the past couple of minutes.

"If we stay around this pace," Kuroo starts, "I think I can manage riding Hime on my own."

"Are you sure?"

"No, but— I trust you both?"

"We will take care of you," Ushijima promises, and Kuroo hasn't seen him break one of those yet, so he nods again, surer now, letting Ushijima get on his horse and riding next to Kuroo. 

Hime, for her part, shows herself to be an exceedingly reliable horse. She follows Ushijima's lead, keeping his pace, and paying little mind if Kuroo's ever jerky, or jumpy, or being too bony in her saddle. She's so agreeable that eventually, Kuroo makes a decision.

"I think we can go faster."

Ushijima looks at him.

"I mean. Not _fast_ fast," Kuroo says. "A light trot. I think I can do that."

"We can take it slow," Ushijima assures him. "If you want to go back to this pace just tell me."

Kuroo nods. "I will."

Seemingly satisfied with that, Ushijima coaxes his horse to a pick up her speed, and Hime follows to trot alongside them. Kuroo holds onto her reins firmly with both hands, but if she minds she doesn't show it. They follow the path through, Kuroo trying his best not to get caught staring too much at the passing scenery, to focus on where they're going, lest a shift in direction throws him off-balance, but there is something in the breeze on his cheeks and the greenery that he wants to take in, and continue taking in. 

It really _has_ been a while since he'd gone riding, and he's starting to remember why he'd loved it so much. Deeper in the woods it grows even quieter than out in the fields, nothing but the rustle of leaves and faraway birds, the rhythmic _clip-clop_ of hooves on the earth. Ushijima slows down to navigate around a fallen branch, Hime takes the cue and follows after him. When he turns back to check on Kuroo his face is caught in a sliver of sunlight cutting through the canopy overhead, pooling golden flecks in warm olive eyes, his face half-hidden in shadows.

Kuroo only realizes he's saying something when the rest of his brain catches up to the sight he's caught drinking in— a furrowing of eyebrows, strong and solemn mouth moving around words.

"Sorry," he says, blinking back, heat creeping up the back of his neck. "I didn't catch that?"

"Are you alright?" Ushijima asks. "We have picked up some more speed."

"The canter's been fine," Kuroo assures him. He glances around them, noting how the trees have clustered closer together in this part of the woods, the path they've been following growing narrower. "I've just been— I don't remember being here before, it's—"

It's almost otherworldly, being this deep in nature. He's half expecting ancient spirits cautiously watching them both, waiting for them to make a false move. If he hopped off his horse and touched anything would he get whisked away somewhere no one would ever find him again?

"We can go back, if you wish."

He shakes his head. "I like it here," he tells Ushijima. "Was there— were we headed anywhere in particular? Just seemed like you were pretty familiar with this path."

"Yes. It is not much farther from here."

Kuroo smiles. "I'd like to see it," he says, tugging on the reins when Ushijima starts moving again.

The forest clears up less than a kilometer down the path, ending in an open field atop a gently sloping hill. Kuroo's not sure where they were relative to Ushijima's farm, the windy path through the forest having shaken away the last of his sense of direction. At the bottom of the hill is a field of wild flowers in yellows and greens; farther out, the foot of the mountains. Nothing but greenery from here to there. The brilliant blue sky wide above them.

"It's more colorful around springtime," Ushijima says, drawing up his horse next to Kuroo. 

"I bet it looks amazing," Kuroo murmurs. He takes a deep breath, fresh air and wildflower scent filling his lungs. When he exhales it is slow and careful, measured. Easy.

He could stay like this for a while.

"Is this your secret spot, then?" he wonders after a few moments of comfortable quiet. "Is this where you go to get away?"

"It's peaceful out here," Ushijima says. "I like to be alone sometimes."

Kuroo chuckles, his tone light. "You know I came out here to be alone too," he says. "It's funny to think even someone like you, who's lived here all his life, would want something similar."

Ushijima glances at him from the corner of his eyes, something that looks like curiosity creasing his forehead. "Did you?" 

"I mean, we're kind of in the middle of nowhere," Kuroo starts, faltering. He doesn't want it to mean like an insult, and he certainly doesn't want Ushijima to think he's disparaging the town. Especially not since he's finding it a much more welcome reprieve than he'd thought it might be.

" _Are_ you alone, though?" Ushijima asks. 

When Kuroo thinks about it, _really_ thinks about it, he's starting to see where Ushijima's coming from. Even though Baachan's usually out during the day she's always around in the mornings with hot breakfast, with coffee for Kuroo and tea for herself, the chatter between them nice and comfortable. 

And even as he works on the barn most of the day on his own, there's enough people passing by to say hello, especially now he's started to remember names and the faces that matched them— Saito-san on his way to open up shop, Ohira coming back from the market, Sagae coming by to see if he's got any more scrap metal to sell. Micchan, who Kuroo thinks is actually Miyazawa-san, will drop off some extra vegetables for Baachan sometimes, along with passing gossip about the women Kuroo's age who happen to be single ("You and Toshi-kun are breaking so many hearts," she'd sighed once). And once, even Tendou had dropped by on his day off to poke around and leave a tin of chocolate brownies for Baachan and Kuroo ("But you can share with Wakatoshi too, I guess, if he hasn't been by yet today," he'd said, grin sly).

And then, of course, there's Ushijima, who always comes by at the exact same time in the afternoons, sleeves rolled up and pants tight around his thighs, ready to be put to work. He's never as nosy as any of the neighbors, and usually it's Kuroo who's filling the quiet between them, but there's something comforting about his presence, about being around him, that makes the afternoons the highlight of Kuroo's days. 

He has friends in Tokyo, of course. People whose company he enjoys. But he can count them out on one hand, and with the distance between tiny apartments spread across a sprawling metropolis and everything else that fills up their times, it is much, much easier to feel lonely in the city than it has ever been out here.

It's a feeling Kuroo had welcomed, without even really realizing what it was, knowing only that it was a world of difference from what he'd been used to.

But for someone like Ushijima, who'd lived with it his whole life— 

"No," he finally answers, a rueful shake of his head. "I guess I'm not."

* * *

It's around noon by the time they get back to the farm, spending the morning by the hill in relative quiet, their conversation held in low voices to keep the peace. As he usually is, Ushijima is sparse with his words but not the honesty he speaks with, telling Kuroo of his friends and his childhood when Kuroo asked. He'd only ever been visited in the summer, knew of the big festival at the end of it, so he wanted to know more about what the town was like year round.

In return, and because Ushijima asked, he told him about what growing up in Tokyo was like, how he'd wanted to try to move away for university just to see what it was like to live somewhere new, and ultimately deciding to stay because nothing else felt like it would be bigger than Tokyo.

"Were you right?" Ushijima had asked. "About Tokyo?"

Kuroo had just laughed. "Jury's still out."

They veer back into more comfortable territory after, talking about the other restaurants in town and the festival preparations that everyone's doing and how Kuroo can't seem to keep any of his clothes clean enough.

"You are wearing the wrong clothes," Ushijima informs him plainly as they amble over toward the farm. 

"These are my most comfortable, socially acceptable clothes though!" Kuroo protests. "Like, any more comfortable and you'd be seeing me in my pajamas."

"What is comfortable in the city is not the same out here," Ushijima tells him. "It is lucky you already had good riding shoes, but there are some stores in town that you might want to look into."

Kuroo quirks an eyebrow at him. "You mean, where you get all your country chic?" he asks, grinning.

"This is not chic, it is practical."

"And who said it couldn't be both?" Kuroo asks, watching Ushijima dismount from his horse so he could walk her to her stall. "If you're that concerned about it, you should take me shopping then. You know I'd hate to pick something that wasn't practical."

"I can do that when we are both free," Ushijima says. "What day works for you?"

"Oh, uh— does tomorrow work?" It had been half a rhetorical statement, half an invitation. Kuroo fumbles for a moment, wondering if that was too soon. He holds onto the cantle, lifting his right leg to dismount himself the same way Ushijima had.

"Everything will be closed tomorrow, so— _Kuroo_!" Ushijima starts when Kuroo swings his legs a little too wide, the foot in the stirrup twisting back and shifting his center of gravity sideways, his hold slipping off the cantle so that he's falling backwards— 

"Oof," Kuroo grunts, held steady with solid warmth around his back, Ushijima's arm encircling his waist and worried gaze pinning him down. 

"Are you okay?" Ushijima asks. With the sun glowing behind him he looks haloed like this, handsome, and Kuroo's all too aware of how broad his shoulders are, how thick his arms, that they could envelope him so completely, so entirely, like this.

"Yeah," Kuroo squeaks, certain his face is completely red and grateful he can chalk it up to embarrassment. "That was dumb of me."

"It was not dumb. But maybe it was a little careless," Ushijima says.

"I'll try to be more careful next time," Kuroo promises.

"That sounds good."

Ushijima hasn't let go. Kuroo isn't about to ask him too. He wonders how long they'd stay like this, how long they _can_ stay like this, because it's not a terrible place to be, caught in Ushijima's gaze like this. Will Ushijima mind, he wonders, if he moved just a little bit closer— oh, well, Ushijima's moving closer too, so maybe that was okay— 

"Toshi-kun!" someone calls out, and quick as lightning Kuroo leaps away to learn he can stand on his own two feet, the most disappointing revelation he's had in his entire life. 

Ushijima straightens himself up, clearing his throat, the heat of the midday sun darkening his cheeks. "Yes, Kaasan?"

Ushijima's mother comes into view then, smiling when she sees Kuroo. "Oh, if it isn't Tettsun! Well, lunch is ready, so why don't you come join us?"

"Ah, I—" Kuroo glances back at Ushijima, who nods. "If it isn't troublesome at all, Ushijima-san, I would love to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading and letting me indulge. Extra thanks to Ellen, who looked this over for horse accuracy! ♥ 
> 
> Next chapter: the makeover montage! ♥


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Five shirts, two pairs of pants, a hat and a pair of boots later, Kuroo walks out of the store with a renewed appreciation for plaid and denim, especially if wearing it could apparently get Ushijima a little tongue-tied. All Kuroo did was ask was what he thought of them on him! ("They look very good on you," Ushijima had said, on the third attempt at responding.)

Ushijima, as it turns out, gets all his country chic from a single store in town. It appears to be the same store everybody _else_ gets their country chic from as well, because Kuroo thinks he can pick out Tendou's shirt in one rack and Sagae's pants in the corner, and huh— he wonders, holding up a blouse. Looks like Baachan's.

"That would neither be comfortable nor practical for you," Ushijima says, appearing suddenly right next to him. 

Kuroo yelps, laughing when he sees the tiniest crinkling at the corners of Ushijima's eyes. "Well, that's a shame, I think green florals would bring out the almond in my eyes," he says, fluttering his eyes extra hard before he returns the blouse to its rack. 

"Most colors do," Ushijima murmurs, with one hand holding up a few shirts he'd somehow managed to find in the few minutes they'd been in the store, and with the other, a couple pairs of pants. "This general material for the shirts works best for being outdoors. I picked out a few different styles, but there are more if you do not find any of these suitable. These pants are good, durable material."

"Oh! Plaid is good," Kuroo says, holding up the shirts. There are solid colors as well, and some with more subtle patterns on them, but the plaids stand out. "Actually, these colors are really good."

"There is a fitting room over there," Ushijima lets him know. "You can see how well they fit."

"I want a cowboy hat," Kuroo says. "What's a good one for me?"

Ushijima frowns. "Any hat should be fine. It does not need to be like mine."

"But I like yours." Kuroo reaches up to tip the brim of it down over Ushijima's pretty eyes. It is a massive mistake, as all it does is highlight his full, perfect lips instead. _Damn it._ "You can't be the only one looking that dashing all the time."

"I—"

"Find me a hat, okay?" Kuroo asks, throwing Ushijima a wide grin before he disappears into an empty fitting room.

* * *

Five shirts, two pairs of pants, a hat and a pair of boots later, Kuroo walks out of the store with a renewed appreciation for plaid and denim, especially if wearing it could apparently get Ushijima a little tongue-tied. All Kuroo did was ask was what he thought of them on him! ("They look very good on you," Ushijima had said, on the third attempt at responding.)

He'd also talked the salesperson to let him wear an outfit out with him. The boots are desperately in need of breaking in and his pants were a little tight, still too starchy and in need of maybe a wash or two before the material softened enough to wear comfortably, but he thinks the look lends him a little bit more country cred now.

"Are you alright?" Ushijima asks as they make their way down the street. 

"Yeah, why— why do you ask?"

"You are walking differently than before," Ushijima says. 

"Uh. Right. That's— probably the pants," Kuroo lies, turning down his swagger a notch. 

Ushijima nods. "They will need to be washed."

Kuroo hums his agreement, peering into the stores they pass by, like the Tendou family restaurant, a convenience store, a supermarket. One of the stores sells an assortment of home goods varied enough to pique Kuroo's interest, luring him in as he tugs Ushijima over to follow, but Kuroo only looks through the items, coming out of it with nothing. 

Next door is an ice cream shop, and it's hot enough that it sounds like an incredibly great idea for the both of them to pick something up.

"My treat," Kuroo says, shouldering Ushijima out of the way so he can pay for both of their cones. "Since you've been so kind as to accompany me today."

They pass by a hardware store next, and then a crafting store, neither of which has anything Kuroo or Ushijima wanted to look at. But then they come up a traditional Japanese clothing store.

"I didn't bring any yukata," he realizes, humming. "Do you usually wear them? For the festival?"

"Usually, yes." Ushijima glances through the store window. "Oe-san is in there right now. She owns the store, so she will be very happy to help you pick something out."

"Is that okay?" Kuroo asks. "I know we only went down here for clothes I'd already gotten…"

"I don't mind," Ushijima says, following Kuroo inside.

Oe-san is indeed _extremely_ happy to help, especially once she finds out Kuroo is Tetsu-kun from Tokyo, she's heard so much about him from when she helped out at the community center last weekend, what kinds of patterns does he like, darker ones should suit him just fine— _oh_ this is for the festival? Well, hold on, there's a few seasonal patterns that just came in that will be _just_ the thing, wait just a moment— 

She disappears in a flurry of helpfulness to the back room, leaving Kuroo and Ushijima blinking where they stood.

"She is usually like that," Ushijima says before Kuroo can even ask.

Kuroo laughs. "She's funny. I like her."

"Let me know what you think of these," she says when she re-emerges, almost buried beneath the armful of yukata she brings out with her. "I did pick out a variety of them, but— well— Toshi-kun, which pattern yukata are you wearing?"

"Oe-san?" Ushijima asks.

"Well it's gotta match his, right? It's always better when they match, it's good to think about these kinds of things, now I know you favor neutral shades, Toshi-kun, so I didn't get anything that would clash with those for Tetsu-kun, but if you had a more specific pattern in mind I can—" She blinks at both of their stunned faces. "Hm? What? Aren't you two going together?"

It's Ushijima who answers for them both, Kuroo too caught off-guard to recover. "We have not discussed it."

"Oh, well, _are_ you going with anyone else?" Oe-san glances sidelong at Kuroo. " _Your_ grandmother's already got plans, I thought."

Of course she did. Kuroo isn't even surprised. "I'm sure she does," he says with a chuckle, "but I wasn't sure if Ushijima had plans of his own—"

"I do not," Ushijima volunteers, studiously looking at somewhere over Kuroo's shoulder. "Have plans of my own."

"Oh, then, if you didn't mind going with me too…?" Kuroo starts, letting the question hang in the air between them.

Ushijima's reply is blessedly quick. "I don't mind."

"Then it's settled!" Oe-san says, clapping her hands. "Toshi-kun, then, if you'd let me know which pattern you were considering—" she starts again, laying out the fabrics she'd picked out for review.

* * *

It had been a nice, cool day when they had set out for the town that afternoon in another Baachan-approved break from barn work— in the middle of the week, this time! She'd been so pleased— so Kuroo had suggested they forego the short drive and take the long walk instead. Ushijima had been amenable to that, and now that the sun was on its way down, clouds thick and full partly covering it, it made the afternoon even cooler than earlier, the walk back a more leisurely pace.

"That was nice," Kuroo says, the first to break the quiet. "Thanks for showing me around."

"It is no problem. You should feel more comfortable working in the barn now, in those clothes."

"And maybe riding again?" Kuroo asks, hopeful.

Ushijima's gaze softens. "Of course."

"What else did we used to do?" he wonders. "When we were kids. You wanna go looking for stag beetles?"

"Do you?" Ushijima asks. The corner of his lips twitch. "I don't think it will be very fair to the boys who are currently looking for them."

"Why not?"

"I know all their favorite hiding places. They will not have any beetles left to find."

Kuroo laughs. "Thanks to _me_ ," he says, a thread of a memory tugged free in his mind as they pass by a rusted, broken wheelbarrow. "Didn't I find it first?"

Ushijima cocks his head at him, a thoughtful look on his face. "Did you?"

"I know you remember," Kuroo mutters, recognizing the layer of playfulness in the seemingly innocent question. He follows his gaze from the wheelbarrow to the dilapidated sign behind it, to the abandoned house with the overgrown backyard not far behind. "Yes, I absolutely did, because—" and here, without thinking, he reaches for Ushijima's hand, taking it in his and tugging him off the road and toward the house— "I was the one who wanted to explore this house."

He remembers the restlessness, the itch to move and poke around from when he was a kid, taking Waka-chan's hand like he holds onto Ushijima's now and asking him where else could they go, surely farther than the Ushijima's house, surely even farther than the house next door, where else could they go? Stopping before this house, and what had looked like an imposing forest behind it, and asking Waka-chan who lived there.

"No one," came his answer, the hand in Kuroo's tightening slightly. "We shouldn't go. It's not allowed."

"We won't go _in_ ," Kuroo had hedged, "and I'll be here. It'll be fine." He'd wheedled and coaxed, the stubborn set of Waka-chan's lips not giving an inch, but finally Kuroo had just decided to keep walking, realizing then that Waka-chan wouldn't let go either. 

"It was locked," Ushijima reminds him now, even as Kuroo winds around the house to inspect what hid behind it. "It still is."

"It's not what's in the house—" Kuroo murmurs, grinning at Ushijima when they come up against a wooden fence, doing little more than keep the weeds from stepping over its boundaries. He lets go of Ushijima's hand to feel around, half from instinct and half from decades-old memories, before he finds the loose board that swung open for the two of them back then, swinging open for them now. "There we go!"

"We cannot possibly fit through there," Ushijima points out, though he says it so lightly Kuroo is sure that's Ushijima-speak for teasing.

"Of course not, Waka-chan," Kuroo murmurs, drawing out the syllables of Ushijima's old nickname. He sticks his tongue out in concentration, feeling around for another board nearby. It's loose enough, so with barely any extra pressure he heaves, speeding up the process of decay and loosening a second board above the first so that it swung free for them too. 

"Tettsun," Ushijima hums. "That has to be illegal."

"Who's gonna tell?" Kuroo asks, eyes wide. He laughs at the blank look on Ushijima's face, then shrugs into the space opened free for him. "Come on."

He squeezes out into the wild field on the other side, the path he'd taken once— many many years ago— crystal clear in his memory now. He turns around to find Ushijima gallantly attempting to fit his broad shoulders into the space that had only barely managed Kuroo and he laughs, holding out his hand to help Ushijima angle a better way through. "There we go, that wasn't so hard was it?"

"What are you doing?" Ushijima asks, a huff of amusement out of his lips.

"Testing out my new outfit," Kuroo replies, cheeky, and from there it isn't long until they find their way through a part of the woods that is hidden and out of reach, that is quiet too, that Kuroo had considered his own secret place. 

Well.

His and Waka-chan's.

" _Bingo!_ " he murmurs, pointing at the bark of a nearby tree. "Stag beetle central. Some things never change."

"So you do remember," Ushijima says, falling into step beside Kuroo as he digs around, grabbing a fallen twig to upend stray leaves.

"I get there eventually," Kuroo tells him. "Ah!" he says, finding that the little 'x' he'd carved at the root of a tree had now grown a little higher up over the years. 

"You buried something out here?"

"Apparently," Kuroo says, though he couldn't remember what it was outside the fact it had been a metal tin with Vabo-chan stickers on it. Probably a couple of baseball cards he was collecting, some other trinkets he thought would be cool. He also hadn't buried it too deeply, and the roots below must have pushed it up over the years, because the twig pokes into something hard and metallic eventually, and the corner of the tin peeks up from beneath the dirt. "Aha!"

Ushijima peers over curiously, holding out his hand to take Kuroo's shopping bags when he tries to set them down so he can dig up the tin properly. He's quiet as Kuroo loosens the soil around the tin, grunting over not having anything like a shovel to do this with, but eventually he unearths the relic and brings it out, Vabo-chan's face faded and dirtied and muddied, the metal around the lid crumpled in places where time and nature must have done its number on it over the years. "I don't remember this tin at all."

"I don't think I told you about it," Kuroo says, smiling softly as he tries to wrangle the tin open. "I don't remember why, now."

"It looks stuck."

Kuroo winces. "It is," he sighs, holding the tin up to inspect it. "Rusted shut. Well that was—"

_Anticlimactic_ , he was going to say, if the clouds that hadn't been slowly gathering dark and ominous above them didn't break out a loud crack of thunder overhead at that exact moment. 

"Oh shit," he mutters, as Ushijima's frown deepens.

"I did not bring an umbrella," he says. "They did not say it would rain today."

"We better get going," Kuroo says, wincing. "I _do_ know how to get back to Baachan's from here," he adds, the two of them hurrying over with quicker steps and longer strides.

But it isn't meant to be. Barely a minute later the sky opens up above them, a torrential downpour neither of them could take cover from. Kuroo is drenched immediately, cool water chilling him to the bone, soft earth under his feet turning into squelching mud at once.

Well, that was a nice hello to his new boots. He winces, remembering the rest of his clothes. But when he turns to Ushijima, he finds the man hunched over very carefully over the shopping bags he'd been holding onto, having folded them as small as possible so he could shield them from the heavy rain.

"You don't have to do that—" he starts to say, but another crack of thunder drowns out his words. When Ushijima turns to him, a question on his face, he decides to just yell, "The barn is nearer!" 

Ushijima nods then, and they both pick up speed, running the rest of the way down the empty field until Baachan's barn comes into view, finally. 

They hurry inside, Kuroo closing the door behind them and groping around for the pull switch to turn the lights on. There's a second of pause, as though the wires were deciding if it was worth it, before a lightbulb flickers to life, glow weak from disuse and probably a little bit because the bulb itself was too dusty. 

"Guess we can wait this out here," Kuroo says, glancing at Ushijima sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"Why are you apologizing?" Ushijima asks. "You had nothing to do with the weather changing."

Kuroo shrugs. "Just feels like I shouldn't have kept you too long, I guess," he mutters. 

"That is not something you should apologize for." Ushijima nods at Kuroo. "You're going to catch a cold if you keep your clothes on."

"So will you," Kuroo shoots back, tugging his shirt off and feeling only a little self-conscious about it as he wrings it dry. God, he's pretty bony, isn't he? Maybe he should have listened to Baachan anytime she told him to get seconds. But Ushijima is right, of course; they can't stay in wet clothes like this, especially not if the rain goes on longer. "If the clothes I bought are dryer than we are, we can use some of them to towel off, the rest to change into," he adds. "I'll wash them after. It's fine."

"I think they are fairly dry. I was worried the yukata would be destroyed," Ushijima says, pausing for a moment. "If it is okay with you, I will take my pants off as well. But not my boxers."

Kuroo keeps his gaze away, body half-turned from Ushijima, certain his entire face is burning up at that point. "It's okay with me, I'm gonna do the same," he says. Would it be weird to say 'no peeking'? Would it be weird not to? Frozen in indecision he says neither, but then realizes the dry clothes are still with Ushijima. "Can I get—"

"Here you are," Ushijima tells him, holding out a spare shirt for Kuroo. 

"Thanks," Kuroo mutters, gaze to the ground, as he dries himself off. But he can't help it. His eyes flicker up— holy _fuck_ his suspicions were correct, there is nothing beneath Ushijima's clothes except chiseled perfection, defined muscles flexing as Ushijima pats himself dry with a shirt, tantalizing droplets of rain rolling down the hard lines of his torso. Kuroo forces his eyes shut, his breathing to slow down, the heat rising in his cheeks to _go away_. He turns back around to face Ushijima once he's ready. "If you can fit into it, you're free to put on one of the shirts, too."

"I don't want to ruin your shirt," Ushijima says, a statement of fact and not arrogance. It takes all of Kuroo's willpower to keep his gaze on his face, and not rake it the way down what he's sure is a _vision_. 

"You're free to ruin one shirt," Kuroo tells him, picking out a grey plaid shirt from the bag and handing it to Ushijima. He fishes the black one for himself and shrugs it on. "At least put it around your shoulders, so you're not cold."

"Thank you," Ushijima says, unbuttoning the shirt so he could shrug it around his shoulders. Kuroo isn't sure if it's better or worse for his sanity than when Ushijima was just shirtless (and pants-less, which he still is, but Kuroo is only looking waist-up, like a good boy), but it is what it is.

"Thank _you_ ," Kuroo says with a shake of his head. "For keeping these clothes dry. Good thinking, Ushijima."

"You called me Waka-chan, earlier," he says.

Kuroo flushes, remembering the _Tettsun_ that had come out of Ushijima's mouth in response. "Sorry, I—"

"I haven't been called that in a long time," Ushijima says. His voice is too quiet for the noise around them. "But I think I prefer it to Ushijima."

"Oh." Kuroo blinks, and this time he's not sure he can hide the heat on his cheeks. "Then," he says, afraid to say it louder than a whisper, "how about Wakatoshi?"

Ushijima nods. "Yes, please."

"Tetsurou," he says.

"Yes, Tetsurou."

Kuroo grins, a nervous habit when he doesn't know what else to do in a moment teetering on the brink of something unfamiliar and terrifying, but before he could completely break it Hatsune Miku does it for him, loud and out of place in the quiet of the barn, in the sacred space between the two of them.

"Sorry, I gotta take this," Kuroo apologizes, though he can't help the relief that floods through him either, before he picks up the phone to answer. There isn't much free space around the barn but Ushijima settles himself in one corner, so Kuroo heads over to the other. "Hey, what's up?"

Kenma's voice is a little garbled on the other end of the line, the weather no doubt affecting the signal. "—came by again," Kuroo catches him saying. "Just thought you should know."

"Okay," he says. "Well. Now's not a good time."

"Obviously. But when is?" Kenma sighs. "I get it, I do, but you know you can't hide forever."

"I know," Kuroo tells him. He does. And he's not. "Look, I'll be back after the summer, okay? We can talk then."

"I don't care when you talk to anyone next," Kenma mutters. Kuroo can almost see him rolling his eyes too. "But alright. You'll come back once summer ends, then?"

"Yeah, I will," Kuroo confirms. "Okay?"

"Alright," Kenma says, not bothering to say goodbye before he hangs up. 

"Talk to you soon too," Kuroo mutters at his phone, huffing a little and shaking his head. "My friend—" he says, glancing up at Ushijima, who stiffens up once Kuroo addresses him. "He's a little— you okay?"

"Yes, I am fine," Ushijima says, but Kuroo feels the mood fracture around them a little bit, like the atmosphere from earlier had dissipated entirely. "It has stopped raining."

Maybe that's what it was, because once Ushijima points it out, Kuroo realizes that he's right, and the steady patter of the rain had gone away in between the time Kuroo picked up his phone and had Kenma hang up on him. "So it has."

Ushijima stands up, putting his damp pants back on. "I will head back before it starts up again," he says. "You should too."

"Good idea," Kuroo says, taking the shopping bags of new clothes and grabbing the wet ones with his other hand.

"I will return this shirt to you as soon as I have washed it," he adds.

Kuroo nods. "Okay." He watches Ushijima head out, his movements much more rigid than usual. He doesn't like it. "Wakatoshi."

"Yes?" 

"I had fun today," he says. "Thank you."

He thinks he sees Ushijima's shoulders relax the smallest, tiniest bit. "I'm glad," he says. "I did too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, for reading! Kudos and comments are always great fuel!
> 
> I do not know how sustainable this update frequency is, but the next chapter will have chickens!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Kuroo had wandered out after dinner when Baachan mentioned the new moon should make the stars brighter to see, an old blanket rolled up and tucked under his arm, leaving his phone charging in his room with no plan other than to lay down somewhere and look up at the sky for a bit. He shifts to move to one half of the blanket. "Wanna stay for a bit?" At Ushijima's silence, which Kuroo takes for hesitation, he adds, "I really don't mind."

Ushijima returns Kuroo's shirt to him a few days later, freshly pressed and carefully folded in a new paper bag. "I am sorry it took so long," he says, holding it out awkwardly, waiting until Kuroo could push himself back up to sit and take the paper bag from him.

"I wasn't in any hurry," Kuroo tells him, offering him a lopsided grin. He's not sure if Ushijima can see it in the dark, no other source of light around them besides the one from Baachan's house all the way back. "Thanks."

"I did not mean to disturb you," Ushijima says, glancing at the house. "I was going to drop it off with your grandmother when she said you were not around, but she told me to come out here. I also brought more mosquito repellant from her, if you needed any."

Kuroo snorts. "I'm fine, thanks," he says. He'd wandered out after dinner when Baachan mentioned the new moon should make the stars brighter to see, an old blanket rolled up and tucked under his arm, leaving his phone charging in his room with no plan other than to lay down somewhere and look up at the sky for a bit. He shifts to move to one half of the blanket. "Wanna stay for a bit?" At Ushijima's silence, which Kuroo takes for hesitation, he adds, "I really don't mind." 

"If I'm really not disturbing you." Ushijima folds himself down to sit next to Kuroo, stretching his legs out and leaning back so he was still seated. They're quiet for a long while, and surprisingly, it's Ushijima who speaks first. "Stargazing?"

Kuroo had lain back down, folding his arms behind him, his head on his palms. "Yeah. You don't see the stars like this back in Tokyo."

"They are always out here," Ushijima says. "Maybe that is why I don't look as often."

"They're _incredible_ ," Kuroo breathes. "It's just— I don't know. Sounds cheesy, but puts things in perspective, I guess. How small we are, in the great big scheme of things."

"Is that a good thing?" Ushijima asks, shifting in his seat and scooting down so he can lie back, side by side with Kuroo. Maybe he wants to see what Kuroo's looking at too. "Feeling small?"

Kuroo laughs softly. "Maybe not always," he admits. "But when some things seem very, very big, it's nice to be reminded there's always something bigger."

When Ushijima asks, his voice is low and quiet. Tentative. "Does that happen often? In Tokyo?"

"Yeah, I guess it does," Kuroo says with a small huff of laughter that comes out shakier than he'd intended. "Things can just get to you that way— they build and build and it feels like the world will end if you don't do this right, or else. And that just, I don't know, I guess it heightens everything else too."

"I see."

"But it doesn't matter, not really," Kuroo murmurs. "None of it does. We're nothing to the universe."

Ushijima's quiet for a moment, but Kuroo can hear him thinking. "I don't like how that sounds," he says finally, his voice tight. "The universe may think nothing of you, but it does not mean you are nothing. What you are should matter to you and to the people around you."

There's a truth to those words that stings Kuroo unexpectedly. Ushijima is right, in a way, but Kuroo doesn't want to hear it just yet. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. 

"Tetsurou?"

"What if I don't want it to?"

"Don't you?"

That hangs in the air between them for a moment. Kuroo doesn't answer— _can't_ answer— and Ushijima doesn't push, but Kuroo can feel the heat of his body next to him, not quite close enough to touch, just close enough to be felt. 

And for now, that's enough.

* * *

Against all odds, and against all his (and Kenma's) expectations, Kuroo finds himself in the surprising situation of actually settling in, as summer peaks and the weeks pass one after the other.

He starts waking up early enough to help Baachan with breakfast. She shows him what she does with the miso soup, leaving him in charge of it while she prepares the other dishes, and it's a different start to the morning like this, brighter and lighter. He's always loved Baachan as the grandparent who was usually more than happy to spoil him, but in these mornings he gets to know her more in the stories she shares, not just around what's happening around the community center but in snatches of anecdotes from when Kuroo's dad was just a boy, and when Baachan herself was just a girl, even when sometimes he gets the feeling she's teasing him.

"It's really nice you've taken a break from work," she sighed one morning as she tastes the miso Kuroo had prepared. "Perfect, yes. You kids work too hard these days. Just like your father. Do you know how long it took for him to ask your mother out? A few more years earlier and I'd have had two grandchildren instead of one, not that I'm not happy to have you, Tetsu-kun."

"Baachan," Kuroo laughs, shaking his head. "The break's been good."

"Life's not just about work!" she says, wagging her finger at him. "And you're sure you haven't got anyone special yet? You're going to start even later than your father at this rate."

"Baachan..."

"Hmm, it looks I've made too much again. I know you boys are done with the barn, but why don't you have Toshi-kun come over for dinner tonight? It'll be nice to see him again, he's such a handsome young man, don't you think? If I were only born a few decades later—"

" _Baachan!_ "

And he and Ushijima do finally, eventually, clear out the barn, leaving the inside spacious and clean, save for a spot where Kuroo kept the items he still has to sort through. He insists on treating Ushijima out to celebrate the day they finish the work, running into Tendou, Sagae, and Ohira after dinner and ending up at one of the two bars the town has.

There, over a few beers and greasy fried food, Tendou regales Kuroo with tales of Ushijima's school days and the various shenanigans that he often got dragged into, despite his best intentions.

"We had to work twice as hard to get Wakatoshi to break _any_ rules," Tendou says, waving a fried chicken wing around. "He was a model _everything_ —"

"Unsurprising," Kuroo says, catching Ushijima's gaze and grinning. 

"Had a reputation to uphold and all that nonsense. Do you know he was captain of our high school volleyball club?"

"I know he played, but not that he was captain," Kuroo says, raising an eyebrow. That had been one of the few things the two of them had shared in common, back when they were kids, and something they'd talked about recently as well, since both of them continued playing until high school.

"Could've gone pro too," Tendou says wistfully. "We were pretty good, weren't we, Wakatoshi?"

"We had a strong team," Ushijima agrees. "I had good memories."

Later, on their way home, once Tendou and the others had gone their own way and it was just the two of them again, Kuroo can't help but ask: "Did you ever want to go pro instead?"

Ushijima shrugs. "I thought about it, but never for too long."

"Never been tempted?"

"The farm is here," he says. "I am the only son."

It isn't necessarily an answer, but Kuroo thinks, maybe to Ushijima it is.

* * *

Kuroo busies himself over the next few days with work he tells Ushijima he doesn't need help with, although Ushijima still comes by at the same time in the afternoons, with Kuroo waiting for him outside mysteriously-closed barn doors.

"I passed by Goshiki just now," Ushijima had said mildly, one of those days.

Kuroo had shrugged. "He said he wanted a look at some of the stray items I'm still figuring out what to do with."

"Any luck with the tin can you found?"

"Shut as ever!" Kuroo sighed before falling into step beside Ushijima, arms behind his back as cocked his head at his friend. "What are we doing this afternoon?"

Some days they went into town, picking out ice cream from the shop or keeping Tendou company during the slow, mid-meal hours at the restaurant. Either way it meant they were fed, since Tendou was very deeply invested in creating desserts he could start selling at the restaurant, and Kuroo and Ushijima were his favorite taste testers. Occasionally Oe-san would poke her head out of her store and beckon them over, talking Kuroo and Ushijima to model some of the new fabrics she'd been working with so that she could use them for sample images around the store.

"Business is good now since people have reasons to wear these with the festivals happening, but I'm thinking of printing a catalog for the fall," she confided in Kuroo. "Get the word around then, too."

"That's a great idea, Oe-san," Kuroo told her. 

"I thought so too!" she said, beaming, and when she asked, "You wouldn't mind modeling for some of them too, would you? You and Toshi-kun? You're both so tall and handsome, I just know you'd make my yukata look the best!" there really was no way Kuroo could ever think to refuse.

Other days they went riding, exploring the land around the Ushijima farm, staying on the paths only until Kuroo got more comfortable with Hime and Ushijima could take them off it. More than half the time they still ended up on the hill, though, happy to while away the hours there until the sun started sinking in the horizon, just the two of them in comfortable quiet or muted conversation.

But today— _today_ , Kuroo has something else in mind.

And he can't wait to show Ushijima.

"Are you finally going to tell me what you have done with the barn?" Ushijima asks when he shows up, gaze flickering from the impossible-to-hide grin on Kuroo's face to the barn doors behind him. 

Kuroo sputters. "Okay, that's not fair," he says finally, once he's recovered. "You gotta try to at least pretend to play along!"

There's that crinkle in the corner of his eyes, a twitch at the edge of his lips. Ushijima shakes his head. "I am sorry, but if it helps, that is as far as I know." He nods at the barn. "I would like to see what you have done."

"All by myself," Kuroo reminds him, fishing out the key from his pocket and unlocking the doors. "More or less."

"More or less?"

"I had to get… stuff… from people."

Ushijima nods. "Like Goshiki."

"You just said you didn't know anything else!"

This time, Ushijima _does_ crack a smile, close-mouthed and perfect, just the smallest dent of a dimple on his left cheek. It's almost— _really_ close, but not quite there!— enough to make Kuroo forgive him. (It is more than enough, however, to make him forget to breathe for about half a minute.) 

"I am afraid you were not very subtle," Ushijima says. "But really. I would like to see it."

Kuroo wrinkles his nose. "Well, fine, then," he huffs, though he can't help chuckling either. It's not like the barn can keep _noise_ contained, even if it can hide the surprise. He pushes the doors open, revealing the newly set up chicken coop he'd bought and put together from the Goshikis. Complete with three hens! "Ta-dah."

"You got chickens."

"I got chickens." Kuroo beams, knowing yes, it probably took him way longer than necessary to set the whole thing up— the materials had arrived last week, and it was supposed to take no time at all to put together but had taken him all the time it could possibly have needed— but he _had_ done it! "I wanted to give you the first egg. I mean. Probably the first dozen. Half? I don't know how many they'd lay."

"Three a day, if all of them lay one today," Ushijima says. He's still smiling. Kuroo doesn't know what to do with this face. (No, that's a lie, he absolutely _does_ know what he wants to do with this face; he's just not sure if he's allowed to.) "It would be an honor to receive the first egg. Thank you."

"You're welcome," Kuroo says. 

"The Goshikis have the best chickens around. I am sure it will be a very delicious egg."

"Yes," Kuroo agrees. "That's what Baachan said." He glances toward the coop, realizing quite a few things in succession.

Namely, that the chickens are all in the coop.

And that the egg is in the coop. Somewhere.

And that Kuroo is out here, separated from the chickens and the egg by wood and metal wiring, but to get the egg, Kuroo will have to— 

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes, perfect, I'm just—" Kuroo mumbles, feeling around for his phone before he remembers he'd left it at home, and so Googling is out of the question. "Looking for the keys to the coop." He holds it up with a flourish, catches the spark of mirth in Ushijima's face. "Oh you think this is— I'm getting you that egg!"

"I did not say anything."

"I am!" Kuroo insists, now spurred by pride to prove himself. He opens the coop and steps inside, spotting the smooth oval of an egg peeking out from under a small pile of straw bits, luckily away from any of the chickens. He picks it up triumphantly, turning around only to see the coop door swinging open and one of the chickens making a run for it. "Oh shit—"

Ushijima moves at once to try and block the chicken's escape.

Kuroo, hurrying to help, pockets the egg and tries to stop the other two chickens from following suit by pushing the coop door closed.

Something in his pocket cracks at this movement.

Moments later, he feels the warm stickiness of a broken egg yolk seeping out of his pocket.

He looks up. Ushijima's blinking at him, rogue chicken in his hands. "Was that—"

"I'm gonna give you the second egg?" Kuroo amends, biting down on his lower lip before he laughs, shoulders shaking, and pulls out the wasted egg from his pocket. "Oops."

"Hold on," Ushijima says, returning the chicken to the coop and making sure it is safely locked— how come none of them misbehaved when _he_ went in there, Kuroo would just like to know— before he pulls out a neatly folded handkerchief from his pocket and dampens it with some water. "Hold out your hands."

"Ah, no, it's—" Kuroo starts, but Ushijima takes his hand in both of his, wiping it clean with gentle, even strokes. "Okay. The second egg will be better," he promises.

"It's a shame about the first," Ushijima says, his gaze meeting Kuroo's. "I had planned on cracking it open over hot rice."

"Raw egg? Yeah, with farm-fresh ones I hear they're really something else," Kuroo whispers. He's not sure where the rest of his voice went, why he doesn't want to speak any louder than this, what to make of the way Ushijima holds his gaze, and doesn't let go of his hands, or how he's drawing closer— 

"Tetsurou?"

Kuroo jolts back, the name too loud, too sudden, too unwelcome, an unexpected fracturing of the quiet moment. 

"I'm sorry, I— I've been looking all over for you, I didn't mean to— Tetsurou—"

Because that hadn't been Ushijima's voice uttering his name, and when Kuroo turns to the barn door— 

"Daichi," Kuroo breathes, swallowing hard. "What the hell are you doing here?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....yay chickens? <.< >.>
> 
> Kudos and comments would be lovely, as always! ♥


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > "I don't think this is a good time," Ushijima says, voice cutting through the static of Kuroo's thoughts, sharp and solid. He takes a step forward, a step closer to Kuroo, and places himself between him and Daichi. 
>> 
>> It's funny, how that helps. A slice of clarity in the muddiness of his head. Kuroo reaches out to place his hand on Ushijima's wrist. "It's okay," he tells him, and when Ushijima turns to meet his gaze Kuroo offers him as steady a smile as he can muster. "He came a long way, Wakatoshi. It's okay."

The last time Kuroo saw Daichi, he'd ducked back around the corner so that Daichi wouldn't see him, what's left of the personal items in his office stuffed in a box. He'd barely caught a glimpse, just a quick second's look at his profile.

The last time Daichi saw Kuroo was in a strategy meeting Kuroo presented, in a board room with six others, and the only thing he'd said after was, "Thank you for the work," with little more than a perfunctory nod, no second glances back.

"I'm sorry," Daichi's saying now, worry creasing his face, relief smoothing it back at the same time, a conflict of emotions clouding over normally unflappable features. 

Dimly Kuroo can see his mouth moving, forming what must be words shaped around what must be explanations. He's sure he should be hearing them, should be listening, but nothing is discernible over the thundering in his ears and he can't focus on anything but the blood draining from his face and the pounding in his chest, the fact that _Daichi's_ here where he shouldn't be.

"I don't think this is a good time," Ushijima says, voice cutting through the static of Kuroo's thoughts, sharp and solid. He takes a step forward, a step closer to Kuroo, and places himself between him and Daichi. 

It's funny, how that helps. A slice of clarity in the muddiness of his head. Kuroo reaches out to place his hand on Ushijima's wrist. "It's okay," he tells him, and when Ushijima turns to meet his gaze Kuroo offers him as steady a smile as he can muster. "He came a long way, Wakatoshi. It's okay."

"Are you sure?" Ushijima asks, something flickering in his eyes, gaze darting from Daichi back to Kuroo. His jaw clenches slightly, but he doesn't push more than that.

"No," Kuroo admits, "but I might as well. I'll— I'll be right back, just give us a moment, okay?" He keeps his gaze on Ushijima, but makes sure Daichi hears him when he adds, "We won't take long."

* * *

"You could've taken a hint," Kuroo mutters once they've gone a few meters away from the barn, his voice low, all his hackles raised now that he's had time to recover from the initial shock of seeing Daichi in his Baachan's barn. 

"I was _worried_ ," Daichi grouses. "You disappeared off the face of the earth— quit the company, left your apartment, you refused to pick up— nobody would tell me anything until I— what the hell was I supposed to think?"

"That it's none of your business?" Kuroo asks with a bitter laugh, running his hand through his hair. "Shouldn't have been any of your business, Daichi. We broke up months ago."

"Thought we said we'd still be friends," Daichi says, crossing his arms. "What kind of friend runs off without so much as a word? What kind of friend would I be if I'd just let you? It was just a picture, Tetsurou, and we weren't doing anything wrong. Did you really have to be this drastic?"

Kuroo sighs, running his hand through his face. One photo posted on someone's SNS months after it was taken from a company event, innocuous enough were it not for the couple in the background: Daichi's face angled away and hidden in the shadows, but Kuroo's recognizable enough it circulated around the office until one of the higher ups caught wind of it. The optics, he'd told Kuroo, just weren't good. "I was trying to keep you out of it," he says. "Figured I'd cut to the chase and tender my resignation before it turned into a bigger deal than what it was. The president accepted it. Why couldn't you just take a damn hint and let it be?"

"Have you met me?" Daichi asks, and Kuroo can't help the snort out of his mouth. 

"Yeah, alright, you got me there," he says, shaking his head. "I just didn't really want to complicate anything more. You were up for that promotion, it was— I didn't wanna tell you in case you, I don't know, do something stupid."

"Like take the fall for the both of us, like _you_ did instead?" Daichi asks with a deep sigh. "What's this self-sacrificing bullshit from you, huh?"

"I didn't just do it because of that," Kuroo protests. "I'd already been thinking of leaving. That just… sped things up. And I just—"

"Ran away?"

Kuroo shoots him a glare. "Well I can't believe you drove all the way out here. How the hell did you even find me?"

Daichi huffs. "It wasn't because of Kozume, so you can thank him for being an iron wall." He paused, having the audacity to finally look sheepish at last. "I asked your mother."

"You did _what_?"

"Made up a work excuse, don't worry," Daichi says. "I said I was worried, didn't I?" He glances sideways at Kuroo, his forehead furrowed. "You _are_ fine, then?"

Kuroo nods. "I am, yeah. You really didn't have to come check on me like this. Thanks, though."

"That's what friends do," Daichi tells him. "I feel a little… dumb and dramatic now, driving all the way here just to find you perfectly okay." He chuckles. 

"It was a good thought," Kuroo sighs. "I guess I can appreciate it now."

"Are you coming back anytime soon?" 

"After the summer," Kuroo says. "I know I can't just leave things the way they are. I'm sorry I just up and left like that. Told myself I needed space, but you're right. I ran. I know it's not solving anything, I just—"

"It's okay. You needed it. Listen, I can talk to the president if you like too, I'm sure he'll be happy to take you back, or if you like I know past clients who I can—"

"Daichi." Kuroo smiles. "I appreciate that, I do, but I'm only going back so I can wrap things up properly." He hugs his arms closer around him. "I want to stay here."

"What?" Daichi blinks at him. " _Farming?_ "

Kuroo shrugs. "No, probably not. But Baachan's gonna need some help around here, anyway, no matter how spry she looks. I don't— I don't need much, or want much. I can do freelance work from here, but set it at my own pace, you know? I don't want to keep doing what I was doing, anymore."

"Yeah," Daichi says, sighing deeply. "I get it. I think. Wow. You're sure about this?"

"Fuck no," Kuroo says, laughing. "But I want to give it a try."

"Alright. Well. Just don't be a stranger, yeah?"

"I won't be," Kuroo promises, shoving both hands in his pockets. "It's a long drive back. You can stay over and go back in the morning if you like. There's a spare room for you; Baachan won't mind."

Daichi pins him with a thoughtful look. "I'm sure she won't, but what about the cowboy?" he asks, look turning sly at the end of his question.

"What!" 

Daichi laughs. "I'm not blind, you know. I know what I saw."

"Then why did you interrupt," Kuroo mutters darkly, narrowing his gaze.

"I didn't realize until too late, I'm _sorry_ ," Daichi says, snickering and sounding only fractionally apologetic. "You know, I haven't seen you this relaxed in a while. Maybe staying here _is_ a good thing for you after all. I'm glad."

Kuroo doesn't quite know how to respond to that. "I should get back to him," he says. 

"Go," Daichi tells him, sending him off.

But the barn is empty when Kuroo returns, and Ushijima is nowhere to be found.

* * *

Ushijima doesn't come by the next day, long after Daichi drives back home, so Kuroo picks up the day's eggs from the coop (after some extensive Googling, this time) and wraps them up in a checkered kitchen cloth, laying them carefully in a small basket, and heads over next door.

"Oh, he didn't head over to you?" Ushijima's mother asks. "Come to think of it, I think I heard him taking one of the horses out."

"I think I know where to find him," Kuroo tells her. "Thank you, and please, enjoy the eggs."

She waves him off with a kind smile, and Kuroo sets off on foot past the fences in the back, down the trail he's taken a dozen times with Ushijima. It takes longer to walk that distance, but the sun is still up and he can see the hoof-marks fresh on the ground, so he knows there's no need to rush, either. Ushijima will still be there when he arrives.

Kuroo doesn't make any effort to hide his approach when he finds Ushijima, sitting back against a tree with his horse grazing a few meters away.

"Hi," he says. "I came by to drop off the eggs. Never got around to that yesterday."

"Thank you." His tone is polite and neutral, and Kuroo feels suddenly like an intruder. "You didn't need to come all this way to let me know."

"No, but that's not why I came here," Kuroo says. "Yesterday—"

"You do not have to tell me."

"What if I want to?" Kuroo asks, folding himself down to sit against a nearby tree. There's only a short distance between them now but he feels it growing with every moment, and he's desperate to bridge it before it gets too wide to close. "I know I've been— skirting around it. I know you've let me. And if you don't want to hear it that's fine, but I figured, I don't know, I'm trying not to run away this time."

Ushijima's response sounds measured and careful. Guarded. "Then, if you want to," he says. 

He still hasn't looked Kuroo in the eye. Kuroo isn't sure if he wants him to. But slowly, haltingly, he starts talking, reliving the last few weeks of his life in Tokyo and laying them out for the first time since it all happened. Maybe the time away has worked after all, maybe it's the forced clinical retelling, maybe in the end it was all just this stupid when it had felt like the world ending in the moment, but the weight on his shoulders diminishes as the words leave his mouth, the problems he had thought he'd created and aggravated seem, more and more, things that he could actually resolve.

He'd been so deep in it, he'd lost sight of the bigger picture altogether.

"I never really even told Baachan or my mother what happened, not in its entirety," he says, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. "Just that I'd wanted to take a break from work for a bit. They probably think it's some kind of quarter-life crisis. Maybe it is. Maybe they suspect, but they haven't asked, and I— it's more than I've deserved, anyway."

"I didn't know either," Ushijima says. "You were carrying all of that on your own."

"Compartmentalizing it away and studiously ignoring it was there, more like," Kuroo mumbles. "It wasn't the best way to handle it."

"Thank you for telling me all the same," Ushijima says. There's another long pause, and then he adds, "If I can help in any way, I would like to be able to."

"Thanks, but I think this is something I have to fix on my own." Kuroo sighs. "I can really only fix on my own. I mean, at least I know what's next now. What I've gotta do."

"That is why you have to go back," Ushijima says. At the way Kuroo startles, he admits, "I overheard some things."

"Yeah," Kuroo says, easing. "After the festival. I can't keep running away, right?"

Ushijima nods, after a while. "No," he says, and his gaze seems very far away. "You can't."

* * *

Kuroo had thought, perhaps naively, that things were fine. 

It takes him a few days later to realize that they aren't, actually.

Maybe it's because it happens gradually— at first, well, it seems like work at Ushijima's farm just picked up. There were more preparations a friend or other needed help with for the festival, or their shop, or their restaurant. Sudden errands that had to be run for his mother. And Miyazawa-san. And Oe-san. Shirabu-san. 

And Kuroo has gotten busy too. Between taking care of the chickens, clearing out the rest of the items in the barn— there are a few some collectors are coming over to examine, some he's still tinkering around for help with, a few he's making sure can be discarded— and spotty calls with Kenma and Daichi to figure stuff out for his return to Tokyo, his mornings are still as full as they were from when he was only working on the barn. Less physically taxing now, but much more mentally draining.

So it takes him a while to realize Ushijima's stopped coming by altogether. A little longer to pick up on the fact that when Kuroo is the one to visit, there's always something else calling him away, reasons that sound more and more feeble the more Kuroo asks.

Ushijima doesn't even tack on a, "Perhaps next time," when he makes his excuses.

And when Kuroo offers to help, because he used to be able to, at least with Oe-san's errands, he receives nothing more than dismissive, "It is alright, I should be able to take care of it myself."

_That's not the point_ , he wants to say. He knows Ushijima can. He always could. But he never minded Kuroo's company before.

He tries a different tactic one day, waiting until Baachan was off on her daily date with Tanji-san (who were either of them kidding, Kuroo's a grown man with eyes and Baachan is old enough to know what she's doing) before he sets up in the kitchen, streaming YouTube on his phone as it's propped up on the counter, a chopping board and a couple ingredients spread out before him. 

He puts the finishing touches on the lunch a little after noon, the rolled omelettes on the topmost layer not as neat as he'd like, but since he'd used the day's eggs they probably couldn't be beat in taste. At the lower layer he'd laid down steaming hot rice and the hashed beef that Ushijima seemed to eat more of whenever Baachan made it for dinner. It tastes close enough to Baachan's cooking, though it isn't exact. Kuroo hopes that's okay anyway.

He knows it isn't much. He knows there's probably something else going on that Ushijima's maybe reluctant to bring up right now. So, even as he walks over next door and asks where Ushijima's working that moment, even as he heads over to the stables to make this peace offering, Kuroo knows this isn't a cure-all. Not by a long shot.

It's just a start, that's all, a small gesture with a sentiment he hopes will reach Ushijima, while Kuroo himself is still trying to figure out exactly what he wants to say.

So when Ushijima doesn't even look at the lunch when he says, politely but coldly, "Thank you, but I already ate," well.

Kuroo can take a hint when a big fat one slaps him in the face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is anybody still up for a festival next chapter? >.>;;;;
> 
> As always, kudos and comments are good for the soul~ Thank you for reading! ♥


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> > Baachan and Tanji-san look adorable in their matching yukata, Baachan's hand around the crook of Tanji-san's elbow, the two of them picture-perfect in their complementary purples. He himself feels a little out of sorts, unused to the traditional clothes as he stumbles on uneven stone ground with his geta, the red threads embroidering subtle patterns in his black yukata catching lamplight.

It's easier to pass the week that follows, Kuroo thinks. Especially when he now knows what to expect, which is, of course, absolutely nothing.

So, he keeps busy. That's fine, there's a lot to do. Too much, actually. He wakes up earlier than Baachan half the time, only by a little, and can even be halfway through his first cup of coffee when she pads into the kitchen, humming quietly and helping him get the rest of breakfast going.

He checks the coop twice a day, makes sure the feeders are full throughout, cleans them in the evenings. For lunch he makes something quick and easy, by early afternoon he starts preparing something a little more involved for dinner, just in time for Tanji-san and Baachan to return and eat with him. (He's an interesting guy, Tanji-san. Used to coach the high school volleyball club, used to play himself when he was younger. Rough around the edges, more gruff than grandfatherly, but soft when it comes to Baachan. Kuroo thinks he likes him.)

Slowly the last of the loose items in the barn is taken care of, leaving only a couple behind. It's enough he thinks he can maybe just throw them away without much thought, except for some, like the metal tin he'd found in his old hiding spot. He thought there were baseball cards in there. He can hear something swishing, along with the clack of two or three items that seemed heavier, whenever he rattled the tin to guess. If the baseball cards were still in passably good condition, who knows, they might be worth something.

He picks it up, examining it from all angles. The lid has just gotten way too rusty that it's wedged shut against the main body of the container, and time and the elements have bent and folded the metal in every which way. He grabs his phone and types in a quick Google search for tips— the first hits are about jars, but there's no harm in trying, so he takes the tin with him and heads into the kitchen to try and work some magic on it with warm water and a wire brush. (Two months ago, would he even have known what a wire brush was?)

The phone rings while he's scrubbing, but it's Kenma again and the last time he ignored a call from Kenma because he'd left his phone in his room, he'd completely missed the warning that Daichi was about to show up.

Therefore: calls from Kenma could be important.

Kuroo sets the tin down to dry a hand on a towel, picking up and putting Kenma on speaker before he continues scrubbing the tin. "Hey, what's up?"

"What the hell are you doing over there?"

"Uh. Hold on." Kuroo turns the water off and wipes his hands on the towel again before he grabs his bluetooth headset and puts it on. "Farm stuff," he finally explains to Kenma, who hopefully can now only hear his voice, and not the running water or the scrubbing Kuroo's doing.

"Didn't sound like a dying pig," Kenma mutters. "Wait, no. Don't tell me. I don't care."

Kuroo snorts. "And to what do I owe the honor? Which embarrassing remnant of my sordid past is going to walk in through my door this time?" 

"You're in a mood."

"Kenma."

"The guy I showed your apartment to said he liked it. He'll pick up the remainder of your lease if it's ready by the end of the month."

"That's next week."

"That's why I'm calling," Kenma says. "What should I tell him?"

Kuroo hums. That's not a lot of time to move out, and he'd been planning on selling off his stuff slowly since there wouldn't be space for everything at Baachan's anyway, and neither would there be any need. But on the other hand, finding someone on such short notice is no small feat, and he's not sure how long it would take to find anyone else. And that takes care of the next month's rent pretty quickly too.

But did he have time to— 

"Okay, you know what, yeah, I'll be moved out by then," he says. It looks like most of the rust has been removed. He rinses it all dry with paper towels and looks up the next step. "I'll hire some movers, book a storage unit— it'll be cheaper than another month in Tokyo."

"You're still gonna have to pack up the rest of the stuff you're actually taking back."

"I'll do it. I'll figure it out. I can crash at yours though, right? If I have to come back and meet some shady guy from the internet to sell him my old bed later on?" Kuroo rummages around the cupboards with the household tools, finding an old can of spray lubricant to apply to the lid. 

"You're the shady guy someone is going to be meeting from the internet," Kenma mutters. "Yeah, that's fine."

"You're the best," Kuroo says, his grin turning into a frown when he reads the next step in the process. "What the hell is a rubber husband."

"Are you still talking about farm stuff?" Kenma asks, voice strained.

" _Yes_ , Kenma," Kuroo says, rolling his eyes. "Oh, guess I don't need it for this."

"Kuro."

"Hm?"

Kenma hesitates. "Are you okay?"

"What? Why wouldn't I be?"

"You sound different," Kenma says. "And you're distracted by— well, I don't know what, but whatever it is, it sounds dumb. Did something happen?" 

Kuroo sighs. "No."

"Did something _not_ happen?"

"You've been around me too long," Kuroo says. Now Kenma's picked up on all the ways Kuroo likes to avoid answering questions. "Just trying to figure someone out."

"The cowboy?" At Kuroo's sputtering response, Kenma cuts him off with, "I let Sawamura drop by with some of your stuff, since we're not avoiding him anymore. He mentioned a thing or two."

"He's such a _gossip_."

"Takes one to know one," Kenma says. "But. If it _is_ this guy— you've always better at people than I ever was, Kuro. Take your own advice about this kind of stuff. What would you tell me to do if it were me?"

Kuroo laughs. "Your problem is not that he doesn't want to ever talk to you, though," he points out, teasing. "But really, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Anyway, I gotta try to wrangle this tin can loose, thanks for taking care of the renters for me."

"Okay. Good luck," is all Kenma says before hanging up.

"With what?" Kuroo wants to know, staring at the metal tin in his hands. He's got his work cut out for him either way, it seems.

* * *

He's just finished his third round of warm water-hard scrubbing-spray lubricant treatment of the tin and has relocated to the living room, hammer in hand and tin on the coffee table, when Baachan steps out.

"Tetsu-kun?" she asks, blinking at the sight. "It's late, aren't you headed to the festival?"

"Huh?" Kuroo glances up. Baachan had put on a pretty purple yukata, her hair in an elegant grey bun, a drawstring purse in matching fabric in her hand. "Baachan! You look amazing."

She beams. "That's what I was going for," she says, but the smile on her face faded. "But why aren't you ready yet? You'll make Toshi-kun wait."

"Ah—" Kuroo runs his hand through his hair with a sheepish laugh, cursing inwardly when he remembers his hand's a little greasy from the spray he'd been using all afternoon. "It's— something came up. We won't be going together anymore."

"That boy's been too busy lately," Baachana hums, eyeing him with a keen, knowing gaze. "And so have you. What are you even trying to do with that old thing, Tetsu-kun?"

"Oh, you know," Kuroo says with an elaborate shrug. He waves the hammer around, finally banging it lightly against the part of the tin just below the lid and stopping when he sees that it actually works— it actually puts a small dent in it enough to put a little space between the lid and the container. "Whoa. Sorry, Baachan, I was just—"

"No, go ahead, I can tell you've been at that for a while now," she says.

There's no irritation in Baachan when Kuroo looks up at her to confirm the tone of her voice matched the look on her face. She doesn't seem annoyed, though she doesn't seem like she completely understands that her grandson is going through it right now, either. "Um, it's just—" he starts, lightly knocking on all four sides of the tin to bend its walls inward, freeing up the lid so he could use the hammer's claw to yank those outward. With the rust more or less gone from hours of scrubbing and greasing, it does actually work this time. 

He tips open the contents of the box, finding nothing more than a couple of melted-to-the-metal lollipops, three faded photos, a handful of old coins, and an odd bit of metal that looks like, in another life, it might have been a bottle opener.

Kuroo feels the air rush out of him in a deflating whoosh. "Well," he sighs, laughing hollowly. "That was an evening well spent."

"You know," Baachan says, very very kindly, "if you'd like, you can come and accompany me and Tanji-san tonight. Take a night off for a bit, get some fresh air. The fireworks will be lovely. They always are."

"Thank you, Baachan," Kuroo says, feeling quite pathetic, but maybe not quite pity-invite-to-third-wheel-Baachan-and-her-date pathetic. "Don't worry, I'm fine."

"If you're certain," she says, glancing away when Tanji-san's car rolls up to their driveway. "My ride's here. We really can wait for you to get ready if you like, but I hope you don't spend all evening looking for the box that key is for, because I haven't seen it in years. At least try to get some fresh air, okay?"

"Baachan?" Kuroo asks. "What key?"

* * *

The summer festival is a lot livelier and a lot prettier than Kuroo remembers it, the three of them finally arriving after Kuroo held them up, Tanji-san waiting so very patiently when Baachan told him Kuroo would like to come along after all. 

Baachan and Tanji-san look adorable in their matching yukata, Baachan's hand around the crook of Tanji-san's elbow, the two of them picture-perfect in their complementary purples. He himself feels a little out of sorts, unused to the traditional clothes as he stumbles on uneven stone ground with his geta, the red threads embroidering subtle patterns in his black yukata catching lamplight.

"Tetsu-kun," Baachan says. "Tanji-san and I are going to catch the taiko performance over in the plaza."

"Yes, Baachan."

"Will you be alright?"

"Of course, Baachan."

Tanji-san clears his throat. "The Tendous usually set up a stall for their restaurant here. It's usually down that row of vendors," he says, pointing it out for Kuroo. "Sometimes, they get extra help."

"Oh." Kuroo blinks. "Thank you, Tanji-san!" he says, bowing low before he turns to find the Tendous' stall.

It turns out it's not hard to miss, not between Tendou's loud hawking and Ushijima looming behind the cart, drawing Kuroo's attention like moth to flame, the set of his jaw illuminated by the lamps, a light sheen of sweat on his temples tempered by the headband he wore around it. He was hard at work cooking something on a wok, his sleeves rolled up and a tasuki tied around his shoulders and arms enough to show off thick, defined biceps that looked really nice and tanned in the heat of the flames and the glow of the lights and _wow,_ Kuroo, _focus_. 

He shakes his head, clenching his fists. He's not here to run away anymore. 

It's as he's figuring out his opposite-of-running-away strategy that an opportunity opens up for him.

"Well, Wakatoshi-kun," Tendou says, voice ringing loud and clear amid the noise of the festival crowd. It's enough to catch Kuroo's attention, see the very obvious wink Tendou gives him as, without giving Ushijima time to finish up his current work, he simply starts shoving him out from behind the cart. "You've worked hard enough! Why don't you take a nice, long break and enjoy the festival for a bit, huh?"

"I am not—"

"See ya, Wakatoshi!" Tendou says with a final wave, and Kuroo wastes no moment stepping in then, taking Ushijima by the wrist and dragging him back off the festival grounds and onto the grassy half-hills surrounding the paved sections of the park, just far enough away from all the lights and the noise and the people.

"Kuroo," Ushijima says, sounding surprised.

" _Wakatoshi_ ," Kuroo replies, just as pointedly as the way hearing his last name felt like something sharp driving through his chest. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No," Ushijima says, frowning. "You have not done anything—"

"Then _why_?" he asks. "What happened? I thought you were okay, I thought you understood, and I thought you didn't mind that I— what happened in Tokyo—"

"Of course I don't mind. Why would I? You were not at fault."

"But I don't understand," Kuroo says, shaking his head. "I thought you were telling me I wasn't alone here, and that what I do matters to people. I was getting it, I was figuring it out. That's why I wanted to stay here, because I am so, so much more like myself in this town, around you, and Baachan, and everyone else here, than I have ever felt the last few years I was in the city. I was starting to get it, how I mattered to people. But what about _you_? What about what you do to me? Why doesn't that matter as much, when you're the one running away without letting me know what I did, or what I can do to fix it." 

He knows his voice is starting to tremble, the shakiness not something he's used to, the honesty even less. He doesn't just go around _asking_ for things like this, every instinct in him fighting the violent fear of having to lay every card out on the table.

But Ushijima has never been anything but direct with him. Never been anything but honest. Perhaps there were some things he hadn't said, but they were things he didn't need to, did he, not when he had shown up every day without being asked, not when he'd listened, and shared his thoughts with Kuroo, and let him be. 

So Kuroo pushes on.

"I want to fix it, you know," he says, shoving something yellowing and crumpled at Ushijima's chest, the treasure hidden in the ornate box they'd found in the barn, opened by the key Kuroo had tucked away in the tin and mistaken for a bottle opener until Baachan told him otherwise. "I'll always want to fix it, because you're important to me, and I—"

Ushijima takes the piece of paper from Kuroo, unfolding it carefully to take a look. In the dim light— there's a lantern a meter away, maybe it's light enough— Kuroo doesn't know what he can see, if he can discern the scribbling of two five-year-old boys stuck at home during a rainy day, sulking at each other after a fight over whose stag beetle was better, until Baachan had made them sit down and make up. "What—"

"It was the most important thing to me when I was five that I had to go through great lengths so I could keep it forver," Kuroo says, glancing away. "And. You still are. So."

Ushijima doesn't say anything for a while.

He's quiet for just a while too long that Kuroo second-guesses what he's just done, so he clears his throat and turns to stomp back into the festival, and possibly all the way back home in burning shame. "Well! Now that I've said my piece, I'm gonna head back out and find—"

But the ground is uneven and he's still not used to walking in his geta, the wooden heels landing on a crooked root and pitching him off balance. He flails both arms wildly with a yelp, but Ushijima's there to catch him around the waist just as Kuroo grabs hold of his arm. 

"Be careful," he says, his face too close to Kuroo's and with seemingly no intention of pulling away. There's the tiniest of frowns creasing his brow as he looks Kuroo over, gaze full of concern. "Are you okay?"

Kuroo nods, breathless. They are really close. So close surely Ushijima can hear the rabbit-fast pounding of his heart against his chest, because it's loud against his ears, drowning out everything else around them. 

"You said you wanted to stay," Ushijima says, a look of wonder on his face. "I thought— you told that guy you were going back."

Kuroo frowns. "So I can pack up," he says. "Wait. Was that what you thought you heard? Did you think I was gonna leave and not come back?"

It's Ushijima's turn to look away. Even in the dark, Kuroo can see the deep flush on the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. "I did not know why you would choose to be here."

"Did you not…" Kuroo starts, faint. He places gentle fingers on Ushijima's cheeks, tilting his face toward Kuroo's so he can look him in the eye. "Did you not hear a single word I just said?"

"I did," Ushijima says, something gentle and warm in his gaze. Kuroo could drown in his eyes forever. "Did you mean all of that?"

Kuroo laughs, breathless. "What do you _think_ , oh my _god_ ," he murmurs, twisting his hands in the fabric of Ushijima's yukata and yanking him down to close the last few centimeters of space between their lips.

From a distance, high in the sky, fireworks begin to light up the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know this should probably be localized to Japanese searches but [this is where the term rubber husband came from](https://www.hunker.com/13420191/how-to-open-a-rusted-jar). I figure it's one of those things that gets called a lot of different things depending on your region. 
> 
> Thank you for sticking around and reading all this way! If you liked what you read please toss a kudos or a comment to your author. ♥

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for making it here! Kudos and comments are always welcome! If you liked what you've read, you can [share the tweet here](https://twitter.com/slumberish/status/1298096111912194048).
> 
> I've also written a handful of [Haikyuu!! fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slumber/works?fandom_id=758208), and I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/slumberish) if you wanna say hi!


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